by Ella M. Lee
“What if I had been in there?” I asked.
He swallowed. “Well… well, neither of us would be here, I guess.”
I shook my head. “And then you stayed with them.”
“What was I going to do?” he asked. “Leaving Meteor isn’t easy, especially with nowhere to go. I thought about it a few times, but it seemed like a better idea to set myself up in Meteor the way I wanted—on my own.”
I wanted to say something mean and scathing, but he was right. Meteor did not let its people go. Sylvio had come to Water from Meteor, and he had said he only managed it because Water’s pinnacle members were involved, and there had still been casualties on both sides. Mark had been smart to lay low. Smarter than I would have expected of him, really.
Mark turned his eyes on Nicolas, who was leaning back in his chair, listening to something Sylvio was saying.
“He wants to be a pinnacle member of Water, huh?” Mark asked. “He’s got some set of balls.”
I exhaled sharply. Mark thought Nicolas wanted to be a pinnacle member here? Ha. If only he knew our real plans.
“He is ambitious, yes,” I said, hedging.
“What’s he going to do? Kill one of the current ones?”
“I would love to have my own personal crystal ball that could predict Nicolas,” I said, sighing. “That would be really helpful.”
Mark opened his mouth and then hesitated.
“Out with it,” I said.
“Are you really okay here?” Mark glanced in Nicolas’s direction again.
“I feel compelled to point out that if I weren’t, I certainly wouldn’t say that within Nicolas’s hearing,” I said.
Mark rolled his eyes.
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m fine. I’d love for all the bullshit to disappear so that I can get back to sleeping in on the weekends and reading books in my spare time, instead of reviving the various people in my life.”
“I’m leaving, I’m leaving,” Mark said, rolling his eyes again.
“Good,” I said.
“Seriously? You’re going to be like this until the bitter end?” he asked.
I swallowed, the first hints of cold shivers climbing up my spine. “Listen, Mark. It’s nice that you’re not dead. It’s nice that you have a clan and a fiancée and some goals for yourself. I wish you all the best, but I’m not ready for anything else.”
“You were never any good with surprises,” he said.
“No, and I’m still not,” I said. “I’m sure Nicolas will tell me what’s going on with you.”
He frowned, but he didn’t say anything cruel or sarcastic. He sighed. “Do you think Badass would teach me? He taught you, right?”
He was eyeing Daniel with something like envy, and I could understand why. Mark was a decently powerful commander, but Daniel was just something else completely. Right now, he looked a lot like Nicolas—calm, collected, serious, with heaps of magic coiled around him. I still couldn’t believe he’d exhausted all his magic yesterday and looked this good today.
“I think you’d need to do a lot of that groveling he asked for first,” I told Mark.
“What do I say?”
I laughed. “Well, in Dan’s culture, you would kneel in front of him and apologize profusely.”
Mark shot me an incredulous look. “Are you serious? Fuck, you are serious!”
“I don’t mess around with Dan’s feelings,” I said. “If I were you, I wouldn’t either. If you want things to work with Nicolas, you’ll have to get on Daniel’s good side. I had to, when I first got here.”
I watched Daniel get up from the table and gracefully come to our side of the shield.
“Fi, Ryan wants to see you,” he said, hiking his thumb over his shoulder. “And you…” He gave Mark a narrow-eyed, suspicious look. “Time to go back to your own clan. Nicolas has a plan for keeping you off Stephan’s radar, so don’t fuck this up.”
Dan made a beckoning gesture to Mark. Mark got up, dusted off his pants, and walked to Daniel. Just as Dan was about to reach out to take Mark’s wrist and bring him through the shield, Mark dropped to his knees, pressing his palms to the floor and looking down.
“I am sorry,” he said. He looked up. “You are pretty fucking awesome, and I’m glad Fi works for you. Seriously.”
Dan was staring at Mark, wide-eyed and frozen. His expression was an odd mix of alarm and disgust. I glanced at Nicolas, who was studying the scene with a delighted catlike smile, as though he’d never seen anything as funny or strange.
After an awkward two or three seconds, Dan shook his head. “Yeah, uh, okay, get up,” he said, putting a hand out to Mark.
Dan pulled him up and through the shield as I followed them, sort of amazed that my usually petulant brother had humbled himself for even a few moments. Dan glanced back at me and gave me a look that told me he thought my entire family was crazy.
Mark stood behind Evie’s chair and put his hands on her shoulders protectively. She covered one of his hands with hers.
I twisted my burgeoning smile into a sigh. They were a little cute together, I had to admit, even if only to myself. Maybe I thought that simply because I had Nicolas, and I couldn’t help but be happy, knowing he often gave me those same looks.
I glanced at him. He wouldn’t give me those looks now, of course, in a room full of subordinates and Meteor magicians. But every calm, handsome, well-dressed inch of him was mine, and I loved that.
Nicolas tapped his fingers on the table three times and stood. “It is time to get going. Mark, Keisha will port you, Evie, me, Sylvio, and Chandra back to Singapore. We’ll get you settled and wait for Irina’s all-clear.”
As if on cue, Chandra came through the door behind me. She was dressed and armed for a fight, with all her smooth dark hair pulled into a tight braid. She touched my shoulder as she walked to stand by Nicolas.
I was a second from turning and heading out to meet Ryan when Mark caught my eye and tilted his head, inviting me over. I didn’t move. He put out his hand and beckoned impatiently.
Reluctantly, I walked closer. He offered me his left hand, a little inside joke of ours; weirdly, we were both left-handed. I took it, and we shook.
I fixed him with a stern look. “Don’t give Nicolas a hard time. Don’t get yourself killed in Meteor. Don’t ever fuck over my group again.”
“Yes, Mom,” he said.
“And send me some wedding photos,” I added, breaking our grasp and taking a step back.
Mark and Evie exchanged a pleased look.
“I’ll make sure,” Evie said, smiling, and the look she gave me offered so much gratitude that I couldn’t summon any of my previous anger and annoyance.
I left before I said something stupid. Mark wasn’t forgiven, but if Nicolas’s predictions were right, he would be in my life for a long time. I would think about what that meant when I had more time to breathe. Perhaps on one of those mythical, far-flung mornings where I’d get to sleep in, drink tea, read a book, and bask in Nicolas’s arms.
Nothing sounded better than a morning like that.
Ryan had a bunch of exercises he wanted me to learn, all focused on honing my control over transference. It was pleasant to spend the day working with him. Ryan was the most patient person I knew; he suffered through my complaining as I failed attempt after attempt.
For most of the morning, I couldn’t think straight. I was too worried about Nicolas and the others in Singapore. At nearly one o’clock in the afternoon, I saw in our group chat channels that Mark and Evie had been safely squared away, and that our people were on their way back to Hong Kong. I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now that you will be able to focus, the real work can begin,” Ryan said, giving me a knowing smile.
I was lounging back in my chair, hurling silent insults at the little marble that was my transference training tool, when Nicolas knocked on the door sometime later. Ryan, who was halfway through making us each a latté, invited him in.
“F
lat white?” Ryan asked as Nicolas sat across from me.
“Please,” Nicolas said. It seemed that at least some part of living in Sydney for eight years had rubbed off on him; a flat white was such an Australian drink.
“How did it go?” I asked, replacing the marble in its case and leaning my elbows on Ryan’s worktable.
“Fine,” Nicolas said. “Mark and Evie are on their way back to their own clan house, and it seems no one in Meteor is the wiser of what happened. He and I will be in touch. There is nothing much to do for the time being except advise him to lay low and wait.” Nicolas withdrew a white envelope from his jacket pocket. “Mark asked me to give you this.”
Inside the envelope were three old, tattered pictures with a hastily scrawled note wrapped around them.
Fi—
I saved a few things from the house before I burnt it up. Not the important things, unfortunately, but I thought you might like to have these.
Sorry about everything. Good luck, there and back again.
Mark
My eyes hung on the last words: Good luck, there and back again. That was something our mother used to say whenever anyone had to go somewhere or do something difficult. Going to school? Good luck, there and back again. Going to the grocery store? Good luck, there and back again. Taking the SATs? Good luck, there and back again. Right before a competition? Good luck, there and back again. Our family used it for everything, as an all-encompassing well wish for any future endeavor.
I flipped through the three photos, my eyes filling with tears.
The first one was my mother and father’s wedding photo. Her dress was so ugly, but it didn’t matter, because she was beautiful. Mark and I had gotten our sky-blue eyes and dark wavy hair from her. My father was beaming, his left arm around her, his right hand in hers. They were standing in our grove of apple trees, and the green leaves and red apples made the background lovely and lush.
The second photo was taken at a picnic table in front of an ice cream stand. I didn’t recognize the place or remember the event, but I looked to be about seven years old. Mark and I were fighting over a spoon, and our father was trying to mediate. The scene was almost comical, with little Mark gleefully holding on to the spoon with both hands and me trying desperately to win it back from him, a look of grim concentration on my face.
The third photo had been taken in my mother’s flower garden. Again, I didn’t remember the specific event, but it was a beautiful spring day. I must have been about nine years old; I remembered the garish pink gardening gloves I was wearing because I had received them for Christmas that year. Some of the perennial flowers had started blooming, but she and I were planting annuals. We were crouching together in the dirt, and she was pointing at a freshly dug hole with a small spade shovel. There was a marigold plant in my hands, bright orange and dangling roots and dirt. The look on my face was one of caution and gravitas as I guided the plant to its new home. My mother looked proud and radiant, a slight smudge of dirt on her right cheek, directly above the curve of her smile.
I put the photos down on the table, wiping my eyes with the sleeves of my sweatshirt. Ryan carefully placed my latté on the table. Without a word, he handed me a folded handkerchief. I sighed, pressing it to my face and keeping my eyes trained on the art on top of the latté: my favorite pattern of layered hearts.
Nicolas was studying the photos discreetly. I pushed them closer, and he carefully picked them up, his eyes flicking to me several times.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. “When you talk to Mark next, you can thank him for me.”
Nicolas took my hand and offered me a very grave and understanding look. “It is not the worst thing to have pieces of your past appear when you least expect them, is it?”
Chapter 24
When dinner time came, I was exhausted but oddly keyed up. I had the basics of association and dissociation down, so I could—with some effort—control when I used my transference. Ryan assured me it would get easier over time.
It had been fun to use this new skill, and strange to feel Daniel’s power running through me. Until now, I’d only felt his lightning from the outside, not used it as my own. Much like with my transmutation, my transference wanted to engage. It wanted to play with other people’s magic, with exuberance that was akin to an excited puppy pulling at a leash.
“I wonder if I’ll be able to do this after Shatterfall,” I said.
“Transference like mine exists in every clan,” Ryan said. “Much like portal-building, it’s an innate magical construct, and magicians who can use it in one can use it in all. I suppose yours will depend on if lightning magic can transmute or not.”
I laughed. “I’ll add it to our wish list for when Dan imbues the new clan with abilities.”
Nicolas had come in and out of Ryan’s apartment all day. He seemed tired and distracted, still constantly flinching as he sorted through visions. I was afraid that he was stretching himself too thin, but he brushed off my weak protests.
I tapped my phone’s screen. No notifications. I frowned. Where was Daniel? I hadn’t heard from him lately. His phone was basically glued to his hand, and my life was eerily empty without his constant texts. He would message me about anything and everything—work, food, jokes, quotes, poetry, pictures. It was weird to not hear from him.
I suppose I’d have to be the one to initiate contact today. I started with some good news.
I think I can safely touch your magic. I’ve almost gotten this transference thing down. A couple of more days and my crippling fear of getting electrocuted again will probably be gone too.
When fifteen minutes went by without a response, I tried again.
Are you in the clan house? Dinner? I’m dying.
Still nothing. I tried again.
You are alive, right?
I watched my phone for several more minutes, debating whether I should say something to Ryan about Dan’s silence, when Nicolas came back into the apartment.
“Dinner?” he asked, looking between Ryan and me.
My phone buzzed. Daniel!
Sorry, busy. With Julia. Talk in the morning.
I reread the words, trying to make sense of them. I had no idea what he meant. I pulled up his calendar, but it was completely open. No time blocked off for tasks, and definitely no meetings with anyone named Julia.
I held up my phone and waved it around. “Hey, guys? Who the fuck is Julia, and why is Dan with her?”
Nicolas and Ryan exchanged a glance.
“I thought that was over?” Ryan asked Nicolas.
Nicolas shrugged. “It’s been a while.” He looked at me. “Julia is Jasmine’s assistant. She’s also the girl Daniel occasionally sleeps with.”
“What?” I asked. “How did I not know this?”
Nicolas’s expression was wide-eyed and bewildered. “They hardly see each other. It’s very casual.”
“He’s my commander,” I said, exasperated. “These are things I should know.”
I knew Daniel slept around with mortal girls when he was in college, and he had occasionally disappeared overnight a few times since I had known him, only to reappear in a sparkling mood the next morning, but he and I had never discussed his love life. Or whatever you’d call it. I had no idea he slept with anyone regularly, but I suppose it made sense. His life was filled with stress, and sex was a great stress reliever. He and Julia probably understood one another very well, with both of them paired to busy, driven, high-powered magicians.
Had it simply slipped his mind to tell me about her? Did he deliberately not want me to know about the two of them? I was wounded that Dan had never discussed this with me.
Nicolas laughed. “Even you couldn’t get Dan to divulge details about his sex life. He doesn’t kiss and tell. I only learned about this relationship when I stumbled upon the two of them having a cozy morning-after breakfast out in the city.”
“And you and Jasmine just let this happen?” I asked.
> “Of course. Why not?” he said. “They are both responsible, consenting adults. I’ve never cared what Daniel did as long as it didn’t distract him from his work. I do want him to be happy.”
I rolled my eyes and texted Dan.
Enjoy your night, you handsome stud. :)
I smiled. He deserved a bit of teasing after keeping this from me.
“Okay, what’s dinner?” I asked Nicolas, pushing my errant commander from my mind, excited to have one night where I could breathe easily.
It was well past midnight, and I was lounging with my laptop, half distracted, rolling one of the little transference marbles around in my left hand. Ryan had insisted that I play with it constantly, and so I was putting power into it and taking it out over and over again. That would train my transference muscles better, he explained.
Nicolas was asleep. He had crashed in bed a couple of hours ago, and I was glad of it. He had done miraculous work—nearly inconceivable—these past few days. He was exhausted, and I wanted him to recover. I didn’t like how shaky he seemed, how distracted his expression was these days, how his response time was slower and more careful than usual. Nicolas only ever let tiny cues as to his state slip, but I could pick up on all of them now.
I was about to shut off the lights and go to sleep myself when there was frantic knocking on the apartment door. I spun.
Athena. I recognized her sparkling magic on the other side of Nicolas’s wards and shield. I flung the door open.
She threw herself over the threshold, stumbling to the ground in the middle of Nicolas’s apartment. She was a mess. Her dark hair was bedraggled, her eyes rimmed in red, her nose bleeding, and she was shaking badly. She huddled in an oversized gray sweater, tears streaking down her face.
“Athena?” I asked.
“The sparrow is back,” she said quietly, her voice high and broken. “I want to help her. I want to. Why is she struggling? God, why is she hurting herself?”
